Once I steer my ship inside the garage, Leelee pulls down the large, creaky door. With a loud, drawn-out screech, it falls shut, sequestering us away from the prying eyes of the world. Walking over to one of the dusty walls, Leelee flips a switch, and a bulb overhead blinks to life. It reveals a dusty, cobweb-ridden room that looks run down and long abandoned.
And I thought the dwelling where Leelee lives was a hovel. This is… neglected, filthy squalor. There is a layer of dust on every surface and air of abandoned dereliction. I shudder at thethought of spending more than a few minutes here much less having to touch anything within this building.
I survey this ‘garage’. This space and its contents do not fill me with hope. I scratch subtly at my jawline, running various scenarios through my mind, trying to figure out what to do if this building does not provide me with the supplies I require.
Biting her lower lip in worry, Leelee stands beside me, joining me as we survey the space. The garage is old, filled with a myriad of forgotten tools and lost-in-time machinery. I think that Leelee can sense my unease, at how strange and underwhelming this place is to me. But I see something familiar in her eyes – a tenacity that matches my own – a determination as deep and wide as a black hole.
Nudging me gently with her shoulder, Leelee tries to comfort me with words, “I know it’s not… This place is not… Even if we can’t find what we need in here to fix your ship, we’ll find a way. We won’t give up. We’ll get you back into outer space,” she promises.
I stare at Leelee’s profile as she looks around the garage, her brows wrinkled in worry. Something hot blooms inside my chest – something so big that my body shouldn’t be able to contain it. How lucky am I that I was saved by such a unique, wonderful being? In all the universe, I’ve never met her equal.
Leelee wanders around the space, unaware that a shift has happened inside me, which tilts my understanding of the universe on its axis. These feelings are as foreign and uncharted as an uninhabited planet’s terrain, raging within my chest and threatening to spill out. I’m overcome with the urge to try and tell Leelee how I’m feeling, even though I’m not sure I understand them myself.
Despite the quiet of the room and Leelee’s presence, I lock my feelings behind the steel walls of my heart, opting for silence. I’m a Cryzorian – we conquer, we do not unveil ourvulnerabilities. Yet, the mere sight of Leelee in this dirty space, trying to offer her kind-hearted help, sets off an incandescent glow in my cold heart. It is alien – this glow, these feelings – yet strangely comforting. It is something I can carry with me once I have to inevitably leave this planet, and Leelee, behind.
I am fundamentally changed.
Before I can fall victim to the urge to share my thoughts, Leelee wanders over to a large metal set of wheeled drawers. She starts opening drawers and examining their contents. I walk over to join her. It is probably good that I did not voice the thoughts swirling through my mind. I don’t know what to do with these unfamiliar feelings inside me. I need time to meditate on them.
I offer Leelee a slight nod, managing a smile of gratitude. Standing at her side, we stare into the contents of the drawers, which reveal a jumble of tools. All of these instruments are primitive, and none are up to the quality I’m accustomed to, but it’s a start, and at this moment, a start is all I need – a place to rest, heal, and fix my ship with a lovely companion at my side.
With a sense of rising optimism, I turn from the cabinet, scanning my eyes over the garage’s humble interior. It’s no Cryzorian workshop, no den of advanced cosmic machinery, but it just might do. A ripple of hope stirs in me, fueled by the sight of Leelee’s determined look, her face illuminated by the dust-tinted rays of sunlight filtering through the grime-covered windows.
Leelee sneezes suddenly, making me startle at the loud noise. Mumbling an apology, she mutters something about dust. She turns and heads over to one of the dirt-encrusted windows.
“Leelee, what are—” I start to question as she wrestles with the stubborn panes of glass. Her hands are smeared with dirt and grime, a testament to her determination.
“We need fresh air. The dust is getting to my sinuses,” she grunts out as she fights with the glass panel. When she gets the window to slide open with a protesting groan, Leelee turns to me with a triumphant grin.
As she dusts her hands on her pants, I turn my attention back to the tools and analyze each one of them, skimming my fingers over the assortment. A few of them are familiar enough, mirroring the ones I’ve used previously. The rest… They’re primitive, but every civilization had to start somewhere, and their basic principles are universal. A twist here, a pull there – they will serve their purpose.
My eyes land on a haphazard stack of spooled wire next. Copper, silver, aluminum… Hopefully, I can make these work. I may have to melt a few of them down to extract the metal. These earthly metals may lack the same properties as Cryzorian telrinite, but their conductivity and resilience might just restore my ship’s faltering systems.
My heart tightens in my chest, both pleased and saddened by the prospect of escaping this planet. Soon, I might be out amongst the stars again, exploring new galaxies.
I can’t stay. I hold onto that stern reminder, passing my gaze over every inch of this humble garage, pondering just how we can achieve with the few resources at hand. But with Leelee by my side, I feel like even the impossible can be made possible.
CHAPTER 33
Lily
Iwatch as Ravok starts methodically removing panels from the outside of his spaceship, setting them aside and exposing its guts. The craft resembles nothing of what movies and school taught me alien spaceships should look like. It’s no flying saucer, that’s for sure. The spaceship looks like a bird of prey carved from a shard of obsidian, its hull glinting with iridescent hues under the single bare bulb hanging overhead.
“Ravok,” I say. He looks over at me. “I believe I’ll leave you to it. I can’t tell portals from panels on this thing. How about I start on some lunch for us while you work?”
“Do you want some help, Leelee?” he asks. His voice is like rumbling thunder that echoes through the room.
“No. Stay here and work on your ship while I make some food. However, if I can help in any way, let me know,” I add, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my worn-out t-shirt. I am eager to contribute, to lend a hand. Even if that hand is more skilled at applying bandages than fixing intricate machinery.
“Thank you, Leelee,” Ravok says. He meets my gaze, his intense eyes radiating a starry glow – a stark contrast against his dark metallic skin.
Nodding, I turn on my heels. As I leave the garage, I look back at my alien. His white eyes don’t leave the ship as he waves a handheld device over the ship’s engine. I’m somewhat reluctant to leave, but I know that I would only be a distraction or a hindrance rather than a help. I don’t even know how to change my tires or check the engine oil level in my car. I should probably know that stuff, but I always left it to my mechanic – which I now regret.
As I retreat, I glance over my shoulder, my eyes meeting Ravok’s, catching him in the act of watching me walk away. A comforting warmth wells in my chest, and I can’t help the soft smile tugging at my lips. Feeling a blush heat my cheeks, I quickly turn on my heels and head to the cabin, away from the looming spaceship and the alien who’s somehow lodged himself in my heart.
When I glance in the fridge, I grimace. We’re still doing okay with food, but with the amount that Ravok puts away, I’ll need to go to the grocery store soon. I take a quick inventory and find the ingredients for chili. I’m feeling fortunate that Koko supplied this cabin with enough ingredients that I can make my usual staple recipes. As I turn to the stove, Mango comes dashing out from wherever he was hiding and plops himself in front of my feet in an act of civil disobedience. I scoop him up and lecture him about throwing himself under my feet. “Someday I’m going to accidentally kick you or trip over your chubby body and fall on my ass. Then you’ll be sorry.”
“Mrow.”
